


Everybody Hurts (some more than others)

by Miramise



Series: I Get By with a Little Help from My Friends [2]
Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Canon Violence, Minor OC - Freeform, Minor Parker Luciani, Post RE6, don't worry they get better, no beta we die like men, some injury, very minor I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 08:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19970902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miramise/pseuds/Miramise
Summary: Chris has been told many times how rash and quick-tempered he can be.  As long as he got the job done, Chris never thought it was a big deal.  But when his recklessness gets someone he cares about injured, Chris has to face the fact that it's a problem.  Provided he doesn't drown in his own guilt first.(Claire thinks one Leon-sized guilt complex is enough; she doesn't have room for two in her life.)





	1. Lima Kilo?  Lima Kilo.

**Author's Note:**

> Things to note: purple prose more than likely; bullshit-ery with particular topics/presentation that I couldn't get a clear answer to; much artistic license taken... there's probably a _lot_ of things to note, but I can't think of them all. One important point: Keep author skin on or you might see some coding chaos and probably lose immersion. Eh, if I think of anything else, I'll add it.

───beep───beep───beep───

_'How did this happen?_

───beep───beep───beep───

 _'No, I know how._ Why _did this happen?'_

───beep───beep───beep───

_'It's all my fault. You tried to tell me. So why is it you on that bed? It should be me. I screwed up. Why is it you?'_

───beep───beep───beep───

_'...why'_

These thoughts tumbled through Chris's mind again for he-didn't-know how many times that day. The cause of of which lay ignorant of the captain's turmoil. Unconscious as he was, Leon was ignorant of many things occurring around him at the moment, not the least of which was a growing guilt complex to rival his own.

Dark eyes strayed to the figure on the bed. He took in the perverse stillness, so different from the kind he'd often see when Leon's focus and training were all targeted onto a goal. No, that was natural, perhaps graceful, how the blond could meld with that quietude of landscape around him, or blend into the background amidst sheer chaos. That was pure; instinctive and essential. Nothing at all near what Chris saw before him.

Each breath seemed pained, though thankfully not laboured. There were no movements where there should be, no matter how incredible one's stealth; Leon's being the finest among anyone Chris had ever known, he still needed to blink on occasion. No motion to indicated REM. No anything save that rise and fall of breath Chris held onto with every ounce of hope he could find within himself to keep.

This was and yet wasn't Leon S. Kennedy on the hospital bed. Was, simply because Chris couldn't defy reality. Could not erase the events that brought the agent to this state, though everything would have been given without hesitation if it were in Chris's power to do so. Wasn't, because Leon should _never_ be this inert, this frozen.

This lifeless.

A sigh drifted through the air. Chris had been by Leon's bedside since the agent was brought to this room. Prior to that, a lot of pacing had been done in the waiting area until Claire threatened to shoot him if Chris didn't "sit his fat ass down in that seat sweet holy fuck they'll tell us when they can!" He hadn't taken the threat seriously until he noticed Claire talking to a DSO agent and pointing to the woman's sidearm. Chris had flopped into the nearest chair and glared at his sister for the remainder of time it took until a doctor had come out to talk to them.

From that point, Chris had parked himself into one of those stupidly small, plastic chairs obviously not made for guys his size, and kept vigilance over the blond tornado of his life. (Because nobody else could throw the older man's emotions into such chaos the way Leon could without even trying.) His elbows dug into his knees as the brunet let his head rest against the back of his interlocked fingers. Minutes or hours, he had no idea of how long he'd been in that position. Might have been a day for all Chris's awareness of time.

_'why'_

At times he wanted to reach out and clasp that too idle, pale hand into his own. Times he wanted that reassurance of touch and warmth to know the blond was still with them. Still with _him_. Oh, how he wanted all of that, in one simple touch.

_'why'_

But Chris knew he didn't deserve that much. Did not deserve any comfort or relief. Leon needed to be better for himself, not for Chris's screwed up piece of mind. Not to assuage the guilt crawling into every shadow of his heart to make its home. Not to be _forgiven_.

_'You will hate me, and have every right to. Everyone told me how reckless I could get. I didn't care, as long as I got the job done. You tried to warn me. So why are you the one lying there? It should be me, but then you'd be sitting where I am, and I don't know which is worse. Why? why...'_

The downward spiral of his thoughts were halted at the nearly silent creak of the door opening. The smell of coffee wafted in only a moment before Claire walked into view. Two cups were held in her hands, one of which she offered to Chris.

"Just the way you like it, black as my soul."

"Thanks." His head didn't rise from his hands until Claire nudged the cup against his fingers. He groaned and shifted to accept it, feeling his body protest from having stayed in one position for so long. Chris didn't give the temperature much thought and slugged half of it back; the burn helped his thoughts lose some of the despairing tones.

Silence hung still in the air, a roaring pressure against Chris's ears, but he didn't know how to break it. Never before realised that silence could be so _loud_ , a cacophony of noiselessness that grated his nerves. One without any means of finding release.

Claire gave him that sought-after reprieve. "How's he doing?"

A quick shrug, which in hindsight Chris determined counter-productive of the need to erase the quiet. "He's still asleep. I'm not sure if I should call him Snow White or Sleeping Beauty at this point."

"Definitely Sleeping Beauty. The boy tans too easily for anything else. Even if he can get pale just as fast, too." Claire gazed at where her best friend lay without a care of the world. She hated the circumstances, yet she wasn't against Leon taking a break; he cared way too much at times. Cared for everything and everyone except himself.

She glanced over to her brother. Yes, she wished Leon could get that break, but she also needed him to wake up as well. Claire wasn't sure how much Chris could take of the blond's forced slumber. But this wasn't something either of them could magically make better, so for Leon's sake as well as her own, Claire did her best to keep Chris's spirit up.

"Though I dunno if you should try kissing him. You're not exactly the kind of guy I'd consider for the role of Prince Charming."

The other half of the coffee joined the first down Chris's throat. He crumpled the cup in his hand and offered a wan smile. "Saying I can't wake him up with love's true kiss?"

"More like lust's true face-suck."

A dry, pitiful sound escaped the brunet; it might be a chuckle if one were very lenient of the word. "I'll tell him you said that."

"Not if I tell him first." And she would if given the chance. Leon could appreciate her sense of humour, even when he pretended otherwise. The younger Redfield tried to think of something else to add, wanting to avoid the oppressive atmosphere from earlier. She finally settled on asking, "How are you holding up?" Claire regretted the question as soon as she noticed the expression morph on her brother's face.

"You should save your concern for Leon. He's the one who got hurt," Chris told her, unknowingly shutting Claire down. She sighed; it would be a wasted effort to explain how she cared about _both_ of them. Chris wouldn't hear her right then. Perhaps not at all, or not until Leon woke up. Claire didn't know what else to say and considered allowing the return of the silence.

"It should be me on that bed." he breathed. The hushed tone so low the redhead nearly missed it had she not been paying attention. "He tried to warn me and I just rushed right in like always. It was my mistake, yet he's the one paying for it when it should be me."

She didn't have to hear the "why?" to know it was there. Claire also didn't have to think twice about acting in Leon's stead. She knew exactly what her friend would do, and proceeded accordingly.

Chris got an open-hand slap on his head.

Both Redfields winced and grabbed their respective pains; Chris laying a hand to his head, Claire grasping her attack hand while scowling.

"Shit, just how hard is your head, anyway? That freaking hurt."

" _You're_ the one who hit me! How do you get to complain?"

"I was simply doing what Leon would have if he were awake and able to do it himself." She watched her brother try to withdraw back into himself and decided that was enough moping for one day.

"Look, idiot. The doctor is Leon's primary physician, personally assigned from the DSO itself and the only one with clearance to access all of Leon's records as they might affect his health. She knows more about Leon's body than you do." The deep blush exploding across the captain's face went ignored. "If anyone knows if Leon is going to be okay or not, it's her. And _she_ said Leon would be fine. Yes, it was a nasty injury, but Leon will be okay. I'd hate to think the first thing he sees is your sadsack, mopey ass face."

Chris stared at her, somewhere between disbelief and familiar irritation all siblings share. "Wow, _rude_."

"What's rude if your dreary butt playing the pity card. Yes," she continued louder to cut off any protests, "yes, you made a mistake. Guess what? Leon's made them too. And others have also made mistakes. The whole virus thing in one of the biggest fucking mistakes I think has ever been made, but that's just me. You screwed up. Sitting around getting depressed about it is _not_ how you fix that!" Claire forced herself to keep it to a harsh whisper; the last thing she needed was a nurse coming in to kick them out for being too noisy.

"And just _how_ do I fix it?" The question was sarcastic as anything, but Claire appreciated it more than Chris's depressive state.

"Same way any of us mere mortals do. You learn from it." She inhaled, held it, then exhaled as much of her frustration out as Claire could manage. "You be grateful that things weren't as bad as they could have been, then you learn how to avoid that situation in the future.

"You make it sound so easy," and Claire had to wonder if his BSAA teammates were afraid of that sneering tone, or if they found it just as aggravating as she did in that moment. "It could've been a lot worse, Claire! And it would still be my fault!" Like Claire had earlier, Chris reined in his volume while the intensity remained. "What happens next time if—"

A slew of curses were locked behind the younger Redfield's gritted teeth. "Didn't I just say you _learn_? You learn so there's _not_ a next time. You learn so you don't make the same mistake twice. Isn't that what you always told me to do? Don't screw up the same way and you're golden."

A faint memory sent Chris reeling back. The words weren't exactly as Claire lobbed back at him.

"You're going to make mistakes. Just don't make the same one twice, you're just stupid then."

He supposed he could be thankful she hadn't used the 'stupid' comparison, even if deserved.

Chris was brought back to the present when he felt a weight on his shoulder. He looked up to see Claire's worried expression as she hovered over him.

"The doctor said he's going to be fine. And with what Leon's told me, and having met the woman myself, I believe her."

"How can you have met her when she hasn't even talked to us one time," he started, pausing when he noticed the pinched look on his sister's face.

"Chris, she was the one who talked to us in the lobby, remember? She told us what had happened and how Leon was stabilised and we could go—weren't you paying attention?"

The vague memory of a petite, curly-haired brunette with glasses much too large for her face and a lab coat a size too big came to Chris. While she had spoken to them, she looked a little childish—more a kid playing dress-up than a licensed physician—so he'd dismissed her as a student and decided to wait for the real doctor to give them the news.

Chris would learn to stop making snap judgments... some day.

" _She's_ Leon's doctor?! I thought she was a student? She looks, well..." Chris wasn't sure what to say that wouldn't insult the woman in some way, so he was surprised when Claire chuckled at his attempt.

"Dr. Jocelyn Lambèrt. Known to her friends as Joy. Five-foot four, one hundred forty pounds of perfect skin and utter adorableness that hides a wicked sense of humour right up Leon's ally." Claire's eyes took on a slightly glazed look that worried the brunet. "Did I mention the perfect skin? Because it is and I am made of envy. All that lovely, rich brown looks like it would feel so smooth under the fingers..."

Chris stared at his sister as she seemed to go off into some daydream or fantasy he was sure that one, Helena would probably be jealous about. Two, seemed a bit inappropriate given the circumstances. And three, he absolutely did _not_ want to know about.

"You do remember you already have a girlfriend, right?"

That earned a scowl. "Okay first, that didn't stop Sherry, and now she has two healthy boys under her roof. Second—and way more important—Joy's married so I already know I'm S-O-L. But damn, her husband's a lucky bastard."

He could see Claire about to drift back into her fantasy world and pulled her up short. "Focus, please? You were telling me she's Leon's doctor, remember?"

"What? Oh, yeah, she is! And I'll let you in on a secret, brother mine." She leaned closer, resting her forehead against his. "She knows just what you and a lot of others think when they see her. She does that intentionally. People who are dismissive of her typically don't get more of her time than necessary. No time for assholes, as she told Leon."

And wasn't that a clever ruse on her part? Chris was both impressed by the doctor's ploy, and disappointed in himself for falling into it. Though that in turn begged the question, "And how did Leon react?"

"Took one look at her and said either she was a genius, or someone lost a very cute child. She said either he was her patient, or someone's missing an Abercrombie model. I heard both of them requested her to be Leon's doctor after that. I've seen them together, and the sass flows free and wild, especially when they're talking about other agents."

That sounded like Leon. He was slower to judge and more forgiving, sometimes to his detriment.

"Remind me to apologise when I see her again," he grumbled. That would be one mistake he could learn from, at least. Chris just felt he was making too many of late, with far more consequences than a doctor seeing him as a jackass.

Speaking of which, "If she's convinced he's doing fine, then why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been..." And how long _had_ it been since Leon had been pulled from that lab? Isn't that something Chris should know? He pinched the bridge of his nose with tired fingers. "What... what's today, and what time?"

"Thursday, a little after three, and to answer the other question, he's been here for a day. The transport arrived yesterday. Parker covered for you in making sure the rest of the squads got back, and sent the report to HQ."

The brunet would eat his gun if his teammate didn't get some kind of commendation for that.

Claire went on to explain, "It's probably taking so long because Joy said the Plagas antibodies were a little overtaxed with clearing out the poison along with their usual boosting properties. So resting is a good thing. It's not a coma, just a deeper than normal sleep.

"Not to mention," she continued, "he had a pretty good concussion. His brain got rattled a little. And it's only been a day. Leon will wake up when he's ready. You should know this," Claire offered with a most pointed look Chris felt he in no way deserved. "Really, when have any of us gotten Leon to do what we want him to do?"

A good point, but Chris could think of one person; paler blonde hair and a bright smile emerged in his mind's eye. "Sherry—"

"Is practically his daughter and I would say has him wrapped around her finger if I didn't know it was mutual," Claire returned before her brother could finish the sentence. "And even _her_ success rate is fifty-fifty at best. So if Leon's body thinks it still needs to rest—and for once his brain agrees—then let him rest."

The downtrodden expression Chris wore crashed right over his sister's resolve. She didn't think she was wrong, but Claire couldn't stand there and _not_ help her brother. She wasn't that cruel.

A second plastic chair had been pushed aside, so Claire grabbed it and twirled it around in front of Chris, straddling it in reverse to let her arms rest on the back.

"Look, I think sleeping is fine, but if you're so worried then have you tried talking to him?"

Not one iota of that statement made any sense to Chris, and he couldn't be sure if it was the oddness that was Claire, or the fact he wasn't firing on all cylinders at the moment.

"He's _unconscious_ , Claire." The captain briefly thought this must be what it felt like for teachers to explain things to young children. "How can I talk to him if he's unconscious?" He would very much like that not to be the case. If he could talk to Leon, that would mean the blond was awake, and so much of Chris's fears could be put aside.

Claire in turn wondered if this level of density was new for Chris, or if this is just the first time she's noticed it. "Obviously you're not going to carry on a conversation." She aimed a finger-gun at the brunet's head. "It's been proven that unconscious people can still hear when someone's talking to them. It helps to wake up people similar to Leon's condition. Just talk to him."

The brunet's doubt permeated the air between them. Claire let go with a long-suffering sigh and tried to explain. But it's Chris; she was going to have to change tactics to get through his single-minded need to take the blame for himself.

One Leon was bad enough. Claire certainly didn't need two men in her life with a guilt-complex to rival the sun.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she began, "but the last thing Leon saw would have been you ready to take on more of the B.O.W.s that landed him here, yes?"

The non sequitur jarred Chris from his meandering thoughts. "Um, yeah, what about it?" If he'd had the chance, Chris would kill that creature a few times over for its hand in causing this.

"Just hear me out for a minute." She glanced over her shoulder and felt somewhat confident in her theory. It fit too well with everything she knew about the myriad of ways Leon's mind could turn anything into his fault. "Maybe the reason Leon hasn't woken up is, subconsciously, he doesn't think there's much of a reason to."

Icy needles stabbed repeated into Chris's heart. _'What? **What?** What the—no. No. That doesn't... why would he... that...'_

"That doesn't make any sense!" And only the fear of getting kicked out stopped the words from exploding with all the strength a typical Redfield outburst would have. "Why would he—I'm alive! He fucking saw me _alive_ , so why would he—"

A strange, incomprehensible noise emerged from Chris's throat. The brunet vaulted from his chair to pace the length of the room, unable to come to grips with the implications now swirling in his head.

"Even... even _if_ that were the case," he argued, "if he thought something happened to me, that's no reason for him to stay like this! I'm not the only person in his life! What about you? What about Sherry? Maybe he doesn't have the biggest social circle, but he's not alone, dammit! He has plenty of reasons to want to wake up!"

Claire's voice became a quiet counterpoint to the growing heat of Chris's disbelief. "But that's just it, isn't it?" the question laid flat, not waiting for an answer. "Yes, he has others. And if he thinks something happened to you, he'd think it was his fault. Why bother the rest of us with his mere presence?" She could see Chris's temper ready to peak. "Before you go getting us both banned forever, ask yourself this; has Leon's guilt _ever_ made sense?"

The clamor against his sense was born of the encroaching silence, though whether that came in the wake of Claire's observation, or the mental pieces slotting into place, Chris couldn't say.

If he felt guilty about the events that put Leon in the hospital, even with the guarantees of his recovery, how much worse would it be inside the blond's head where no such assurances could reach him? If he honestly believed something dire had happened to Chris, Leon would take all the blame regardless of who the onus should be put on.

And if something _might_ have happened to Chris, then Leon would fear being around the rest of them. Not because they would blame him—the brunet would like to think Leon smarter than that—but because it would change so many things that sleeping through it all would make things easy to avoid. Much like the drunk, black-out binges Leon once engaged in just to avoid the nightmares.

How could Chris forget the ridiculous amount of guilt Leon had carried about Tall Oaks, after all?

Pulling back a Leon who had lost himself to his guilt was a colossal undertaking when he was awake. How much worse would it be, trapped inside his own slumbering conscious?

"How... how do I fix _this_?" Because Chris absolutely had to. He'd break under the possibility of Leon giving up for what would be his mind working against the blond once more.

"First, rethink the notion of 'fixing' him." Claire didn't bother to entertain her brother's doubt, nor his incredulous glare. "I'm serious, Chris. Leon's not broken. This situation isn't a problem that needs solving. I'm not even saying that's _exactly_ what's going on in his mind, only that it's a possibility."

Again, Claire took a deep breath in, and let as much of her negative feelings go on exhale. Calm, then calmer; she would need every ounce in dealing with her hot-tempered, hardheaded brother.

"What I'm saying is he needs reassurances, no matter what's going on in that head of his," she said, breaking it down as much as she could get the stubborn jerk to understand. "I don't know if it's a guilt thing or not. Maybe he thinks something bad happened. Maybe he's just tired of dealing with this crap; in which case, boy, do I get him there. But talking to him, letting him hear your voice, that will help no matter what's happening in his sleep. Wasn't it talking that helped him get over Tall Oaks and China?"

There was a distinct and wholly immature urge to pout, a carryover from the days when Chris's mother had effectively gotten him to understand when he was wrong. The brunet managed to avoid the response; Claire would never let him hear the end of it otherwise.

"Talk to him," she continued. "Doesn't matter about what. Explain what happened after he got out. Apologise if you really feel like you have to. Hell!" the younger Redfield threw up her hands, some of the frustration leaking back into her voice, "read him a 'Woman' Magazine for all I care. He'd probably wake up to tell you how their makeup tips are shit." Some of her exasperation eased at the first real chuckle Claire heard from the brunet all day.

"He probably would. He and Sherry did have that hour-long rant about an article they read on Vogue." And remembering how irate the blond menaces had gotten over the use of cool colours on a warm base left both siblings chuckling softly. "Okay, I get it. I'll... say something to him."

"Good. Let him hear that annoying voice of yours. It's his turn, anyway." Claire belatedly realised she never drank her own coffee, and threw it back in a few swallows to grimace at the taste. "Ugh, that was spectacularly awful. I'm going to get something to get the taste out my mouth." She stood up, nudging the chair back with her foot. "I'll see if I can track down Joy, too. She can tell you more about things once you acknowledge your douchery." Claire went to the door and tossed out a sloppy salute as she pulled it open, which Chris half-heartedly returned. "No somnophilia while I'm gone!" she called behind her.

Chris choked on his spit. " _Claire!_ " The redhead had already made her escape; he shook his head and muttered about the strange humour of younger siblings.

Alone again. Silence filled the empty spaces once more, but the oppressive feeling did not return this time.

───beep───beep───beep───

It left Chris the ability to think, both on what Claire told him, as well as to figure out what he would talk to his sleeping lover about.

───beep───beep───beep───

Then he thought better of it and decided to just wing it instead.

───beep───beep───beep───

Anything would be better than that darn machine.

The chair scraped along the simulated stone tiles when Chris pulled it closer to let him sit back at Leon's bedside. He knew the agent would scoff at how gently Chris was handling him, but he wasn't awake to harp about it at the moment. The way he saw it, if Chris wanted to cradle the blond's hand with the care of fine china, then that was his prerogative, and Leon would have to wake up if he wanted to complain.

"Hey, beautiful." And how that nickname could make Leon blush when he was conscious. It would end in pain on Chris's part any time he was audacious enough to use it around their family of nuts. Though one look from Sherry had silenced the lot of them.

"So, it's been brought to my attention that you _might_ be blaming yourself somewhere in that pretty noggin of yours." Chris hoped that wasn't the case, though he wouldn't bet a lot of money on it. "Well, you can quit it. I'm very much alive and okay, which is more than I can say for you."

What to say? "Apparently you have a personal doctor who I somehow managed to insult without saying a word. I'll own up to that, but I'm still kind of holding it over you for not warning me about her.

What to talk about? "I know Helena's coming in later; her mission went well so she's taking an overnight in. Claire will be happy to see her, after she finishes visiting with you that is. Also, Sherry and the others will likely drop by later today. I might have to duck out; you've made her seriously scary just so you know."

What words to use? "I don't... I don't know what you're thinking of. If you think it's your fault or not. It's absolutely not. This one is all on me, buddy. And I know you'll want to take some of the blame, and I'm telling you right now, I'm not sharing. It's all mine, and you can't have any." A silly taunt, but Chris had no doubts Leon would try to carry some of it if for nothing but spite. The blond was very good at using spite as a motivator. Scarily good.

The words... "You and Sherry both complain about us underestimating you. And you know what? You're right. You have a completely different skill set from most of the BSAA members I usually work with. And I don't appreciate that nearly enough. It was your job, and I still didn't give you enough respect to let you _do_ it. And I will be sorry about that for a long time. I promise you that it's one mistake I'm going to work on. You deserve so much respect and recognition, though I suppose being the DSO Shadow means recognition isn't a thing to be had for you."

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

He had the words.

"So, about this clusterfuck. I suppose I should say what happened on my end. It's pretty much me being reckless, as usual you would say..."

────────

Captain Chris Redfield of the BSAA wasn't often blindsided.

The report in his hands sought to correct that.

"Let me get this straight," he said. He stood in front of Parker, his eyes never leaving the paper. "There's a lab that's so super-secret it may or may not even exist. And _if_ it exists, it has such high security in place that none of our regular nor _elite_ scouting units would be able to get in. _And_ , despite all this, there absolutely has been a viral outbreak in this potential might-not-be-there lab." Incredulous could not begin to describe the pinched brows and down-turned lips resting on Chris's face. "Is that everything?"

Parker shrugged his shoulders. He shot things; this type of stuff went over his head on a good day. "I'm just the messenger boy on this one, Redfield. You'd have to take up the details with the guys in the softer chairs than us."

That earned a snort. Chris had an idea on why the report was sent via one of the SO minions. Nobody in a higher position worth half a rat's ass would've been able to give this report without extreme insubordination of the agents duped into reading it and being told to take it _seriously_.

"This... is a bunch of crap," the captain muttered, his final assessment of the 'report' given to him. "There is no way we're going to waste people on what could be a lark, if we're even that lucky."

"Normally, I'd agree." Parker chewed on an unlit cigar; where he picked up the habit Chris had no idea, but was at least grateful he only lit up outside. "But you'll still want to look at the source of some of the info. It might explain why everything is so fuckin' vague."

A quick squint and skim through had Chris at the part Luciani was referring to. He immediately reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "FOS, which means the U.S. government. Well that explains a _lot_." The report miraculously did not catch on fire, despite Chris glaring at it hard enough in the hopes that it would. "Why are they even sending us any info at all?"

"Could be that it's not on U.S. soil, they're trying to play nice with the U.N., or they're stretched thin themselves. A toss-up." Parker finally copped a seat in front of Chris's desk. He stretched out and brought his hands up to cradle the back of his head, legs extended and crossed. The captain envied how nonchalant the agent could be. "Either way, they're handing it over to us. Report pretty much indicates we can do as we please, including washing our hands of it the same way they are."

Another snort, ladened with as much derision as Chris could stuff into it. As if they were going to ignore any potential threats go. "Yeah, that's not happening, Parker."

"Don't know what you expect to do then, captain. Says the security is pretty high. You really want to risk it? I mean, if you frame it right, some of _our_ scouts might be able to get in, if there's a lab to get into."

And that tone said something to Chris. Something he must have overlooked in the report, so he quickly skimmed it again. "European agents already tried," he grumbled.

"Got it in one. And either they couldn't find anything, or they never made it back. And I doubt if that many just deserted." Parker plucked the cigar from his mouth and gave it a meaningful look. "So something weird is going on, but we're pretty much blind to whatever it is," he concluded, sticking the cigar back where it was.

"Why didn't the European branch tell us, then?" That seemed like it went against protocol, informal as those could be at times.

"If I had to guess, I think someone in government over there might have reached out behind some backs to the U.S. Why, I can't even begin to tell ya. And I don't know if it was done before or after our pals in the Euro-branch tried to figure this out. But we both know the U.S. can't have themselves as being there on paper. So this is the best we're gonna get far as intel goes."

Government and agency policies really and truly grated on Chris's nerves. Instead of helping each other and dealing with the B.O.W.s in one cooperative effort, everyone was involved with keeping secrets and double-dealing to keep their noses clean, even when said noses were deep in a pig's ass.

"So from all that, we can assume the lab is very real, but none of the European agents were able to get a clear location. Those who did never made it back with enough info to let HQ make a plan of attack. And without that, nobody's moving." Chris finally looked up from the report, expression a clear sign of how very _done_ he was with the bullshit. "Sounds right to you?"

"Like I said, I'm just the messenger boy. I leave all this kind of double-thinking to you and the higher-ups.

Everything about this chaffed worse than a burlap G-string. And Chris really needed to stop hanging around Claire; her weird sense of humour was rubbing off on him.

Chris would be the first to admit lateral thinking was not his forte. Yet there was something about this whole mess that was telling him he'd have to look at it from some weird side angle in order to figure it out. And with Jill out on her own mission, there wasn't anyone around the captain trusted to have enough skill to be able to help him with that. What he wouldn't give to have Leon's brain on this...

The report was slammed so hard on Chris's desk his pictures rattled and Parker nearly jumped up, hand reaching for a side knife. He delivered a 'what the hell?' look at the SOU captain.

"What—"

"Get the FOS on the phone," Chris ordered. "Put in an official BSAA request for a DSO infiltration specialist."

"Oookaaay." Parker knew he was missing something only Chris seemed privy to. "Anything to add to the request?"

"Add the code 'Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot' access level 'Lima Kilo'." The captain allowed himself a small grin and leaned back in his chair. "If my hunch is correct, we'll get the finest the DSO has to offer."

And Parker might not be able to connect the dots whichever way Chris had, but he definitely knew one thing; there only one true 'finest' in regards to the DSO. "We're seriously gonna call in the Shadow?"

"We're calling in the Shadow."

The satisfaction on Chris's face had Parker laughing as he went to put in the request. It was still present when, three days later, one Leon S. Kennedy arrived at the North American BSAA headquarters. There were whispers and even some giggling, which puzzled the agent while making Chris groan.

"Don't you agents all have things to do besides standing around ogling our consultant?"

The majority of agents and soldiers scattered, until only Chris, Leon, and Parker remained. To Parker's eyes, the 'consultant' looked too much like a pretty boy to actually be _The_ Shadow. Chris introduced the two as the men shook hands, and Parker quickly re-evaluated that opinion while wondering if his hand would recover from that crushing grip. Ow.

Chris led the three back to his office and nodded for Parker to close the door after him. The moment all three were settled, Chris let the report slap down in front of Leon.

"So, what am I suppose to make of this, huh?"

"Got your attention, didn't it?" Chris thought of all the ways he could wipe that unrepentant smile off his lover's face, but none of them were meant to have an audience. He was almost sorry to have let Parker follow them back.

_'Business before pleasure, Redfield. No matter how much pleasure it would be.'_

The captain pushed those wayward thoughts aside and focused on the reports and the DSO agent in front of him. "Seriously, Leon. What is this, and why are we getting involved?"

"Wait, you mean...?" Parker trailed off, not sure if he'd pieced the clues together correctly. Chris glanced his way with a nod, confirming Parker's suspicions.

"Do I mean that this vague report was absolutely going to get flagged _as intended_? Yes, that's what I mean." Chris turned back to Leon, annoyed at the smug grin he still wore. "Leon, what the hell?"

"It was the only way to get eyes on the problem without it turning into a political clusterfuck," he explained. "The U.S. wasn't contacted through legal channels, as I'm sure you guessed. It's because the lab is potentially government-funded, though by which one, we can't say. The group that contacted us don't have any sort of political power on their own, and would have likely been 'disappeared' if they made too much official noise."

The agent leaned forward, fingertips on the edge of Chris's desk and practically towering over the sitting captain. "This is serious, and the more people who know about it, the better. And who better to know than a global agency itself? Another threat is taken out, we'll have helped despite our hands being tied, and the BSAA gets all the honours. It sucks that so much of this is kept in the dark, but we've played this game before, Chris. It's not going to change any time soon, so we just do what we can and roll with it. You know this, so what's the problem?"

It wasn't a game he liked to play, no matter how many times Chris found himself doing just that. Then again, sometimes the BSAA didn't get this much of a warning, so he supposed he should be thankful for that. But there were still questions that needed answering before Chris could move forward with any planning.

Too bad Leon had another wrench to throw in the works.

"I have to tell you this right now. BSAA HQ intercepted your request and made some changes you probably won't like," the blond admitted.

Chris seriously doubted that he would. "What _changes_?" He growled. A lab might have a viral outbreak waiting to flood the surrounding areas, and he had to play the political two-step between agencies. 

A letter was jammed into Chris's vision a second later, causing him to blink and scoot back a little. "What's this?"

"The conditions for my assignment with the BSAA," Leon replied. "Just remember, I had no part in it."

That sounded quite a bit like nothing good. Chris took the letter and unfolded it, letting his eyes drift to the most important words first. The minute he did, Chris swore long and loud.

"Are they fucking kidding? Euro-branch agents haven't had any luck, and they worked in pairs and at least had support. Sending you in alone and practically defenseless—what the hell is HQ thinking?! That's it! I'm calling them and rescinding this request. Let Euro-branch handle their own fuck-ups!" The letter was slapped down on the desk, Chris already reaching for his office landline. Leon placed a gentle hand over Chris's to stall the brunet from raining fire and brimstone on some unlucky HQ minion.

"Chris, who do you think was able to get that information in the first place?"

Dark eyes blinked a few times as Chris processed this. Who indeed. But if that were true then, "Why was the report so vague if that's the case? I thought DSO were better than that?" And there was no hiding the snarl he let loose. Parker huddled deeper down in his seat, hoping to not be the target of Redfield's ire.

"Remember what I said earlier? The U.S. can't officially be there. But the BSAA can put in special requests to any government for assistance without it causing too much political upheaval, given you're more or less U.N. run. Nor do you have to report on that assistance if you deem the information classified for security reasons."

Confusion hung in silence for a moment. "You played them." Because of course Leon could, would, and essentially did play all the agencies involved to cut through the red tape and bullshit as fast as possible.

"Don't know _what_ you're talking about Redfield," and was there ever such a smirk that Chris both loved and wanted to punch as much as Leon's? Doubtful. "I was on vacation at the time the investigations into this matter were underway."

One of these days, Chris would do something about that obnoxious cheek Leon gained whenever he could make someone else look like an idiot. Even if it was his own government. _Especially_ if it was his own government.

(Chris absolutely would do no such thing, because Leon needed every boost to his self-esteem Chris could help him to get.)

There wasn't any point in asking _where_ Leon happened to be during his vacation. On paper, it would just be an oddly timed but otherwise very legal trip to the same area that the lab may or may not be located. There was a BnB there and everything. Leon probably had his cover airtight.

Damn, Chris couldn't help but fall in love with him a little more. That kind of efficiency and competence was too damn attractive not to.

"Okay, okay." The captain sat back down and tapped the intercepted request. "Still doesn't quite explain this. If the European branch was losing agents—"

"They were losing them because they weren't willing to see this might have been above their skill set," Leon interjected. "They kept tossing their agents at it hoping something would stick; it wasn't going to work. So a few other eyes were given the report to be seen by certain officials who wouldn't needlessly risk their people's lives without assessing the risk."

"I still don't—"

Leon placed both hands flat on Chris's desk and loomed over him. A fierceness stole over the blond's face, and Chris realised he wasn't talking to Leon, friend, lover and fellow B.O.W. fighter. No, this was Leon S. Kennedy, Agent of the Department of Security Organization.

"You would have asked for my help—which I would gladly have given—but you would want to send others in with me. You would take the lead of the mission because that's what you do and what you're used to. You would have tried to slot me into your squad and expect me to follow your orders _despite_ the fact that my skill set and my role would require me to either object to or flat-out ignore those orders. The mission would be compromised because of your mindset to follow protocol and my knowing and subsequently acting on when to disregard it. It wouldn't have worked, and maybe someone at your HQ knew that."

The worst thing about being lectured—in his own _office_ , seriously?—was that everything Leon said was true. He would have treated Leon like any other squad member and expected the man to fall in line, despite what Leon was actually there for. It might have been worse than that; Chris couldn't deny his own feelings would have tried to keep Leon further away from the lab, which would have made the blond even being there a moot point. And Leon himself would have fought Chris tooth and nail, because it was his _job_ to throw himself into the fire first just so others wouldn't get as burned.

He would have tried to keep Leon safe, and in doing so, blatantly disrespected him and his skills as an agent. Worse, he would have landed a blow to Leon's confidence what would have shaken his lover, and seriously damaged their relationship.

Chris didn't like to admit he was wrong when it came to how he led his missions. But this, without HQ's orders, would have been an unmitigated disaster he wouldn't have had enough foresight to avoid.

The innocuous paper stared up at the captain. The words still leaving an awful taste in his mouth.

[Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance: Operation ISLE

Objective: Locate target "Pyre Shelter", secure available intel, assess and eliminate bio-organic weapons. Render target inoperable.

Special Requisition: Kennedy, L [ **REDACTED** ].  
Operations CO: ad hoc Kennedy  
Secondary CO: Redfield, Chris. NA Division  
Secondary Personnel/Resources: Alpha Squad, NA Division. Sierra Squad, EU Division

Full command of ISLE assigned ad hoc to Kennedy, under the direction of the BSAA. Initial infiltration, intel security, and threat assessment assigned exclusively to Kennedy. Resource support, secondary assessment and elimination of B.O.W. assigned to units Alpha and Sierra.

The low growl resounding in the office took Chris by surprise. He was further shocked to realise _he_ was the one doing it. Then again, any reasonable person would feel the same at seeing the orders that meant letting their lover be thrown into the lion's den.

Yet that's exactly what Leon's training is meant for. And if they wanted any hope of finding and shutting down this lab, that's what Chris is going to have to do.

"I don't like it," he grunted.

"You don't have to. Just don't fight me on it," came the patient reply.

Nothing else to be done. This was their job. This was what they signed up—or were unscrupulously coerced—to do. This is what kept the world from burning due to some greedy, short-sighted corporations and scientists playing with people's lives; god pretenders one and all. They were the line in the sand, the last defense against chaos.

And for Chris, that sucked.

"Fine." It wasn't, not by a long shot. "Do you have a general idea of where the target could be?"

The heavy sigh from Parker went ignored. Still, he was glad the two came to an agreement. The last thing he wanted was to be in the middle or an argument, or worse, a lovers' tiff. Chris and Leon's relationship might not be a secret per se, but neither was it common knowledge. Better to keep it that way for now.

Leon responded with a faint smile, one that shifted to a slightly abashed note. "It's actually noted in the target name." He expected the confused look on the captain's face and explained, "Pyre Shelter. It's located somewhere in the Pyrenees Mountains, near Andorra."

Well, that explained some of the political double reach-arounds that were going on. Too close one way or another would have France and Spain pointing fingers at each other. And if it were Andorra, it'd be a nightmare for the tiny principality between those two governments.

"What do you need?" Better to focus on the things he had some control over than whatever stupidity the governments could drown in.

"Nothing." The imminent explosion was quickly curtailed. "Seriously, I have all the gear I'll need. I already have contacts in place from the first pass-through of the area. The only thing at this point is getting me there and setting a rendezvous time for your units to come in."

There had to be something. He couldn't send Leon out and not have something to offer. "What about—"

Soft locks bounced in front of the blond's right eye as he shook his head. "Nothing, Chris. Your standard-issue gear is too bulky for me. Any personnel you send with me will make my job harder; they'll run the risk of being attacked, or worse, infected."

"Communication—"

"Set up with your HQ." Leon shrugged. "My assessment will go there first, so they'll know how you'll need to approach. Could be this place has already been cleaned out, in which case they'll only send one of the squads in for backup." The agent didn't appear to believe that was the situation if his expression was anything to go by. Chris didn't have much hope of that being so, either.

"So we just sit on our thumbs and wait."

"Pretty much. There's no point in moving until you know where to go and what's there."

And 'hurry up and wait' the way things usually ran with these operations. Was Chris used to that? More or less. Did he ever like it? Not a chance.

No more stalling. Nothing else to be said. Chris now realised that Leon even being here was likely a courtesy from Leon himself than any need to inform Chris outside of the reports and requests laying on his desk. Though that also would have been a disaster, to get shipped out only to see the blond where Chris didn't think he had any business being...

And there he went with dismissing Leon's skills again.

"What do you need us to do, agent?"

A nod, simple and sharp. Just like that, the two wore their professional faces. Feelings and relationships had to be pushed aside for the greater good.

(One day Chris was going to tell the 'greater good' to go fuck itself.)

"You'll need to get your units moved to as close to Andorra as possible, so you'll be in a position to move quickly once HQ gets the assessment." Leon pulled his phone from his pocket and held it above the desk. The captain only had a moment to see it wasn't Leon's normal phone when it lit up strangely and projected an image onto the surface of the desk.

Parker, who up until now was happy with being forgotten, gave a low whistle at the tech. "Damn, didn't know the DSO had such toys." He grinned over at Chris while inclining his head towards the light show. "I think the BSAA is short-changing us, captain."

Chris snorted. "We can't even get decent detergent, so I don't know why you expect they'd give us something this advanced."

The banter was cut short when Leon cleared his throat to get the men's attention. "Here," he pointed to the region around Andorra. "Sierra should position themselves closer to the French border, while Alpha should move directly opposite that point on the Spanish border of Andorra."

"Are you sure it's in Andorra?"

"Not at all. In fact, I'm betting it's just outside their border, in a location that's almost impossible for either Spain or Franch to say whose side it's on." Leon frowned as he contemplated the reasons for this. "Likely this was done on purpose to try and give the lab some protection as well as letting whatever blowhard in government that sanctioned this claim plausible deniability if they were caught. Might cost them their position, but I'm sure they have more than a little compensation from whoever they helped set this up."

That sounded somewhat odd to Chris. "Do we even know who's behind this?" he had to ask, because the way Leon said it made the brunet think Neo-umbrella might _not_ be responsible.

"We have our suspicions, but nothing concrete. Hence the other objective: intel. BSAA and DSO made an under the table deal; my services in exchange for a copy of whatever info I find for the U.S., DSO specifically."

Not a bad deal in hindsight. And there had to be some compensation beyond money to get Leon's help; the DSO wouldn't lend out their Shadow for just any old reason.

"What's the timeline on this?" Parker questioned, eyes never leaving the area Alpha squad would be sent to.

"I leave in two hours. I'll arrive at the last scouted location in eight hours at five hundred local. HQ will receive the first assessment communication no later than seven hundred. How long does it usually take for them to move on info?" Leon glanced up from the projected map to look at the two BSAA soldiers. Parker just nodded to Chris for the answer.

"There's way too many hands in this for the BSAA to screw it up. Not the least of which is getting an outside consultant, even off paper," Chris told him. "If our units are already in place, then at the latest we can get orders to move within thirty minutes of HQ's receipt of your intel."

"Sounds good." The agent glanced over to Parker with a note of apology in his voice. "Afraid I can't give you more of a timeline than that. Don't know what's over there or what I'll find, so hard to guess how long it will take me." Parker shrugged it off; it was impossible to plan for every second with these kinds of ops anyway.

"And what happens if you're late reporting in?" It wasn't something Chris _wanted_ to consider, but as a squad captain, he had to. Hated it with every fiber of his being, but again, this was their job, and they were officially on the clock.

"Contact FOS on dark channels. You should get Hunnigan, who can tell you what you need at that point."

Not the answer Chris wanted, but the one he'd have to take. "Fine. Parker, gather Alpha squad in room three for briefing." Chris watched Parker give a sloppy salute with a grin before heading out. Now alone, the brunet let his captain persona slide off and dangerously allowed himself to face his lover instead of the agent. The two men stared at each other for what felt an eternity to Chris. He sighed and broke off first to slump in his seat.

"Is this seriously the only way we can play this out?" he asked, but already knew the answer. He doubted Leon would have gone through the trouble he did to bring this to Chris's attention if another solution were available.

"This one's bad news, Chris. It needs to be shut down ASAP. This was the only way to make sure that happens without the back-and-forth most of the suits in office would have engaged in while the threat of another outbreak hung overhead. Last thing we need is for an entire principality to disappear because of red tape."

There was some... _thing_... in Leon's voice. Something that niggled at Chris's brain, but for the life of him he had no idea what that could be. Still, that same something had him asking, "How much do you really know about this?"

"I know enough to tell you not to bother looking for any agents the Europe branch lost." This time the reply was soft and very much Leon instead of Agent Kennedy. "I know enough to say that if this isn't stopped, the loss of life with likely change the global political climate in ways that make me want to throw up. I know if this isn't stopped, then we might as well throw in the towel."

"Leon..." he stopped at the uplifted hand Leon held in front of himself.

"Don't ask me. I can't tell you. NDA and nobody at the BSAA have been given clearance, with good reason. Just trust me that this needs to be done, in any way possible." Leon abruptly slumped in on himself, and Chris could see the exhaustion Leon must have held at bay by sheer stubborn will. Chris couldn't begin to imagine how much time Leon had already put into this op. And while he couldn't do much more than what the orders allowed him to, Chris could at least do one thing for the blond.

"If you don't need to leave for another couple of hours, there's a decent pull-out in the office I unofficially conscripted for such emergencies.

Leon stared at the brunet as if he were speaking Latin. Actually, Leon knew a fair amount of Latin, so maybe not that. "What?"

Instead of explaining, Chris took Leon by the wrist and led him into an adjoining room. It looked like it had once been an office, but now fell somewhere between a catch-all storage and someone's shut-in. Various gear, non-uniform clothes... someone even managed to put in a tv with a game console under it. In the corner stood an office fridge with a microwave on top. Old reports and small, dismantled gadgets covered a salvaged coffee table. In one corner, several folded blankets were stored in a cardboard box. Everything in place to make it convenient for a person who never wanted to reach more than a couple of feet for anything.

However, two things stood out to Leon. One was a decided lack of any obvious, unitasking weapons—within the DSO even a paperclip could double as a weapon—and the couch. Coloured dark brown, Leon couldn't recognise the material but it felt velveteen beneath curious fingertips. It was well cared for and clutter-free. There was also a conspicuous amount of cleared floor space right in front of it. Before Leon could ask, Chris walked over and unfolded it, showing the sofa to be a pull-out. The bed portion looked as neat and well-kept as the couch did. The blond would be lying if he said he didn't want to just flop on that and sleep for a few hours.

He looked back up at Chris, who hunched a shoulder. "It's kind of a nap-slash-therapy room. Sometimes you just want to be alone for a bit and not think about things. Or sometimes you're so exhausted you wonder what year it is. We all added something that makes it a safe space. Only rule being no weapons."

One large hand gestured across the bed. "Don't worry, we make sure this stays clean. Even have it on the duty charts so it's not forgotten. Sheets kept fresh and all that."

Leon couldn't quite put two and two together. "And you're telling me thing because..." The answering smile confused him further and the blond wondered if he should be worried about something.

"You leave in a couple of hours. Thought maybe you could get a nap in—whoa!" Chris barely dodged out the way as Leon dive-bombed the bed. He groaned loudly in a tone that left a furious red staining the older man's face. Leon kicked off his shoes and curled up on top of the sheets.

"Just... forty minutes. I'll be good with that. Wake me up in forty. I mean it. Don't let me sleep—"

"Do not make the agent look bad by allowing him to oversleep, got it." Chris chuckled softly as Leon waved in his general direction with a huff. "It's fine. I'll set my phone. Just try and doze for a little—" Chris paused because, yes, Leon had already fallen asleep. He noticed Leon stayed on top of the covers but didn't want to wake him to change that. Forty minutes wouldn't be worth it anyway. He turned to leave and spotted the small clothes rack someone and brought in. Chris remembered hanging his BSAA issued jacket on there. One quick search and he was pulling it out and off the hanger. He gave it a gentle shake, then carefully draped it over the blond.

An urge to take a picture and show Leon how cute he could be almost overcame the brunet when Lean shifted and pulled the jacket closer around it. The small whuff noise he uttered only made the need worse, but Chris got himself under control. Besides, doing so would likely end in pain, and the older Redfield was rather fond of living, truth be told. Yet one small indulgence had to be taken. Chris leaned over the blond and brushed his lips against Leon's cheek, the fine stubble tickling his lips.

"See you in forty, Shadow."

He would have stayed and watched over the blond but as they had been reminded several times, there was a job to do. The captain had to go brief the squad and talk logistics with his 2IC. Leon slept on, out to the world as Chris closed the door quietly behind him.

_'Don't make me regret this. For the love of everything, don't make me regret this, Leon.'_


	2. Sleeping Snarky Awakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have untagged cameos of Sherry and Piers towards the end. Anything else I can remember I'll save for the end. Onward!

Almost eleven hours later, Chris found himself regretting it.

While he had gotten Leon up (and comparisons to Sleeping Beauty were kept to himself when he kissed the blond awake) and out the office, Leon didn't get in the air for another two hours after. As it stood, Chris's team had landed an hour before Leon, allowing both Alpha and Sierra to get into position. It might be unnecessary—Chris hoped like hell it would be—but better to have the squads at the ready than for Leon to be caught without the backup.

So Alpha and Sierra arrived at the agreed locations, then waited another hour before Leon would have landed at his location to begin scouting for the lab.

There wasn't any need to recheck gear; it had been checked every fifteen minutes waiting for the call. No need to go over the orders again; Chris had all but branded those orders into his squadmates' brain. Supplies had been counted and recounted again, and everything would have likely been checked out one more time if Parker hadn't taken the captain aside to warn him he would make the other members nervous if they went over everything one more time. Nervous soldiers were the last thing anyone needed, so Chris reined himself in and waited.

That was almost two hours ago.

Yes, it was impossible to plan it down to the last second, but it grated on Chris's every nerve to sit there blind while Leon was out there in who knew what kind of scenario on what could possibly just be a fool's errand. It didn't help that Leon's estimated timeframe was nearing its end.

The captain was debating how much (if any) extra time he should give the blond when HQ finally contacted them.

"HQ to Alpha. Are you in position?"

The reply from Chris was immediate. "This is Alpha leader, both squads are in position."

"We've received confirmation of the target; coordinates 42°30'10.5N 1°43'32.3E. Alpha will rendezvous with Shadow there. Sierra's ETA is one hour to the rendezvous point. Meet up with Shadow for further instructions."

"Copy. Alpha out."

Dislike of stagnation, the confidence of over preparedness due to boredom, just a plain, visceral need to _move_ had Chris bark out across the Squad camp.

"Move out!"

The squad moved like a well-oiled machine that had wanted to get to work nearly as much as its captain. The rendezvous point was less than fifteen minutes from their initial location. Thanks to Chris's anxious gear checking, and a squad of men and women who hated sitting around doing nothing, Alpha squad made it there inside ten minutes.

The door to the lab was odd, to say the least. One look and Chris immediately knew why; whoever had built this lab wanted it to blend in and thus be easy to overlook. It was wide open now, but a person would have to know the lab was even _there_ to know what to look for. It was no wonder Euro-branch hadn't found it.

Less wonder Shadow had.

Along with the open doors were markers placed for the BSAA squads to follow. Chris signed for one unit to split off, two soldiers following the markers to the left of the door, two for the right. The remaining units would follow the captain inside. Eveyone acknowledged the orders and splintered off. Chris then motioned for the squad to approach silently. He knew Shadow would hear them coming a mile away. That was fine as he didn't want to spook the agent; shit stealth would work in Chris's favour there. But B.O.W.s weren't quite as perceptive, and Chris would use every advantage he could get in dealing with them.

The first area they walked into appeared empty, Plain, white walls, no signs of a viral outbreak, no damage, no indication that humans traveled through there at all. Only the door across from them broke up the pattern of blank nothing. Chris walked towards the door and noticed there was a card reader on the side, and some gadget slotted over that with a dial pad attached. One of the numbers kept blinking, so the captain pressed it on a hunch, and the door quietly slid open. Beyond that lay a reception area. If he didn't know better, Chris would think it the waiting room of an affluent doctor's office. Everything appeared immaculate. There were even plants in two of the corners. No sign of a viral outbreak here.

A rush of goosebumps skittered along the brunet's arms.

The receptionist's desk was walled off with high-impact polycarbonate. A door sat behind the desk, letting the employee in and out, and was currently opened. The only other entry was a door just to the side of the enclosed desk. From the lack of handle and ID mechanisms, Chris assumed one could only enter when they were buzzed in. Fortunately, the door was already opened for them. Chris gave a silent thank you to Shadow and moved forward.

The next two areas were as empty as they were quiet. From the main thoroughfare were a set of ten offices, five on either side of the hall. The same was laid out at the next intersection. As none of the doors to these offices were opened, Chris ignored them and moved further down the hall to a set of large double doors. A paper had been wedged under the very bottom in a way meant to get one's attention. The captain motioned for Parker to keep him covered as he picked it up to read the contents.

_It's dangerous to go alone. Take this._ o()xxxx[{::::::>

If they weren't on a mission, Chris would tell his boyfriend how much of a dork he was. However, it also told the captain this was were the problems would begin. He motioned for his men to stay alert while waving for Parker to pull the door open. Chris stepped through first; he led from the front, always. Inside was definitely where the problems started. Or ended, as he didn't believe this was ground zero of the outbreak. But the bodies lying around told him enough. Most appeared to be victims. The obvious infected were already dead; likely Shadow's doing.

A moan from the left, followed by the staccato of gunfire, jerked Chris around, gun up and heart in throat. It was a zombie, but something about the exchange left the brunet slightly nauseous. He turned to see whose gun was still smoking and stood up to address the two soldiers.

"Tell me you made a visual ID before you fired." Chris knew they hadn't when they both glanced nervously at one another. "Then tell me, did you forget we have an agent from the DSO somewhere in this facility? An agent that has vital information who we haven't made contact with, so we're not yet aware of their status, _including_ if they're injured or not? Do you know the shitstorm that would result if we have to go back to the DSO and tell them their best agent was killed by friendly fire?"

Only the fact that infected were still milling around kept Chris from tearing into the soldiers. Yet if it had just been a groan of pain, Leon would be dead by now thanks to jumpy soldiers forgetting protocol.

"I understand this is usually a shoot first situation, but we have procedures in place for a reason. Make visual contact, _then_ fire if target is infected. Got it?" Jerky head-nods from clearly terrified soldiers would have to be enough to settle Chris's own fears. "Right. You two take the rear. Luciani, upfront with me." At least he knew Parker would check first. Plus he knew what Shadow looked like, so that helped.

They traveled further into the lab. Any doors that were closed he ignored, while open doors only warranted a cursory check. More often than not the opened rooms had computers that had already been accessed and destroyed; Shadow had been thorough in his work. While there were a few infected roaming around, most of the ones they found were dead. Either a hole in their head or the head no longer there.

For once they weren't going in without direction; Shadow had left convenient notes to keep the squad on track. That most of those notes contained game references was a matter Chris would take up with Leon afterwards. The agent had no idea how hard it was for Chris not to laugh with notes like "Get over here!" and "It’s time to kick ass and chew bubble gum... and I’m all outta gum."

Honestly, the dork.

Chris only hoped the one with a doodle of a rocket launcher under "It's super effective!" isn't any sort of foreshadowing.

The squad made their way down a few floors, each having more dead infected than the last. Chris also noticed the zombies appeared strange the further in they went; a green undertone to the normally pallid colour of dead flesh.

There wasn't a chance to wonder about this before an inhuman screech pierced the unnatural silence. Chris immediately ran for the source, thoughts lost to instincts as he crashed through the double doors in front of him to a sight that dropped lead in his stomach.

The monster was unlike any Chris had seen before. It stood a good nine feet if an inch. Two small appendages protruded from its midsection, while two more colossal arms sprouted from its back. And of course, all four limbs ended in foot-long claws. What _wasn't_ usual were the massive amount of vines that seemed to grow out, then back into the creature. Each one writhed along the surface of the putrid flesh, as though the vines were animating it instead of any muscular system. Where most G's had one or more huge eyes on other parts of its body, this one instead had some sort of mutated blooms. Mandibles where the mouth should be simply rounded off the nightmare.

For a moment, Chris couldn't help but think if Plant 42 and a G were meshed together, this would be the result.

And a few measly feet away from the creature stood Leon, plainclothed save for a few holsters and what Chris wouldn't even call a tactical vest. Worse, he wasn't holding a gun, but a _knife_. Had he run out of ammo? Why would he try and take that thing on with just a knife?

The sound of the squad captain crashing into the room took Leon's focus for a split second, body already in motion. The creature reared back; he'd think about it later when this thing was dead. Chris squeezed—

"Don't shoot!"

—the trigger.

Leon had already launched himself. What happened next seemed to move all at once while slowed to a crawl. The G roared as needle tipped vines shot out from where the bullets penetrated. Too fast for Chris to get out of the way and avoid the one aimed at his heart.

The force of a body slamming into him rattled the captain's brain—"Shoot the flowers!"—as he took aim again.

Two blooms exploded. Vines, screams. The body still on top him. Vision obscured to everything behind. Two more blooms gone. Unearthly wails melting into a disgusting puddle of ichor.

Chris knew the rest of the squad was tending to each other. Knew there were injuries or worse if they didn't heed Leon's warning. It didn't matter; right now he had to check on Leon. Because Chris is directly responsible for anything that happened to his lover, and that left an awful pit of nausea in his stomach.

_'Why didn't I wait why did I crash in why didn't I take time to scout out the situation why why why—'_

"Kennedy! Kennedy, can you hear me!" Too much red entirely too much and please no stop, just stop that puddle should stop. "Leon!"

"It's worse than it looks," the blond wheezed out. "Then again, this is pretty... pretty bad. Shit. Here." He barely managed to hold two memory cards up to Chris. "You'll need that... a copy for BSAA... antidote on there too..."

"Antidote... Poison?" _'No no no no do not say poison Leon please don't say that.'_ "How—"

"vines... needles... all on there... including antidote... fuck this shit hurts." Leon winced and grabbed his side. Now Chris could see where the vine had sliced through flesh. There was an unusual shade of purple forming around the wound. "not infection... lucky me..."

"Right, just hang on." Chris jerked up when he heard heavy footsteps running in his direction. Sierra, it had to be. Under any other circumstances, he'd have something to say about the noise. Right now he didn't care so long as it meant getting medical attention for Leon. "Sierra!"

The Euro-branch squad piled in, halting at the scene. Chris barked at them to get the men moving. The field medics quickly directed the squad to transport the injured out of the lab. Duty versus worry caught Redfield on the axis on indecision, until Leon grabbed him by his sleeve.

"got all the info... make sure nothing gets out... pretty bad if it does." He sighed, eyes fluttering shut, only to snap back open. A surge of adrenaline rushed through him, giving Leon enough strength to pull Chris closer.

"There's more of them... please, Chris... be careful... I need..." Just as quickly as it came, Leon's strength left him as he fainted. The brunet almost yelled, but the medics had already loaded the agent up and carted him away. Chris pulled one up short and handed one of the memory cards over.

"He said the G had a poison, and the antidote is on here. Guard this with your _**life**_." The soldier nodded his head several times, in fear of said life if he didn't do as the slightly crazed-looking SO commanded. He chased after the retreating members, not wanting to risk being around Chris in that state; nobody would.

The captain glared around the area while gritting his teeth. Yeah, he could definitely make sure nothing survived this pit. He looked back at his remaining squad along with members of Sierra that stayed behind.

"Shadow has retrieved all the necessary info." He slipped the card Leon gave him into his phone and scrolled through to the parts they needed to be aware of. "Most of the infected are typical T-virus, though they were trying to modify it. Still, standard procedures in destroying T-infected. The G-virus is an altered version that _cannot_ be targeted in the usual manner. Aim for the four flowers only, or its defense mechanisms _will_ be triggered," he ordered. "Fire also works. Luciani, go back and see if we have anything to help with that."

"On it." Parker motioned for a couple of men from Sierra to follow him. If Chris was lucky, they'd come back with a couple of flamethrowers; improvised or not, he wasn't picky at this point.

"According to the info, there are no other survivors," he continued. "So at this point, I want an iron tidal wave."

All members adjusted the grip on their guns. Iron tidal wave meant only one thing; anything still moving wouldn't be once they went through the rest of the facility. The captain opened the communication channel to the rest of Alpha and Sierra.

"Keep comms open. No other squad member outside should need to come in unless we need backup. Signal when you get close and make a visual ID on us _first_. Soon as Luciani returns, members in the facility will move out."

A hushed chorus of 'Roger' along with the static agreement in his ear started the new parameters of the mission. Less then ten minutes later, Luciani signaled in he was nearing their location. Chris could see that, once he came through the doors, Parker did indeed have a couple of jury-rigged flamethrowers. The captain was not about to complain and instead nodded for Parker to take one for himself and hand one off to a nearby Sierra squadmate.

"You, take rear. Parker, upfront with me. We're going."

That was the last the BSAA captain would need to say. The next hour was nothing short of a massacre of the remaining infected, including more mutated G's that were easily taken care of with an over-application of fire.

Once cleared, tech-savvy squad members came in to check the systems. Yet Shadow happened to be more thorough than they imagined; he not only did an info dump, but also rendered everything but the self-destruct system useless. The squad confirmed that they would have more than enough time to evacuate with a clear path.

The captain authorised use of said system with extreme prejudice.

Both Alpha and Sierra squads cheered when the lab blew. A pyrrhic victory, however. Moreso for Chris, boyfriend to one Leon Kennedy, than Chris Redfield, BSAA squad captain. As captain, he made an error in judgment that resulted in an agent sustaining a serious injury. It would not be the first time. Sadly, also not the last. But he could argue that all people who signed up to fight these viral infections and B.O.W.s are aware of the risks that come with this kind of job.

As Chris, just plain Chris, there wasn't anything he could say to rationalise the fact that he got his lover injured because of his reckless behaviour.

"Captain! Sierra medics have relocated Shadow and the rest of the injured to a nearby medical facility. They've called in Euro-branch to assist."

"Alright. See if Euro-branch can establish a temporary base near the facility and tell them we'll rendezvous soon as we get the coordinates."

"Roger!" The soldier manned the comms as Chris stood back. He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and turned to see Parker standing next to him.

"Not gonna lie. When I first saw him, I thought he was too much of a pretty boy to be the Shadow."

Most people did when they first associated Leon as the DSO's Shadow. "What changed your mind?" asked the brunet.

"He shook my hand. How I was still able to aim is a miracle." Chris chuckled before the shorter man added, "And after seeing what he managed in there before we even showed up, I was doubly convinced. So if anyone's going to be okay after something like this, I'd put my money on him."

"It's... more than that," the captain muttered, vision falling to the ground.

"So don't do it again." Luciani cut to the root of the problem, causing Chris to snap his eyes up. "I was closest to you, remember? And I'm not that stupid, but no worries; what you two get up to is your own business," the soldier mentioned, letting Chris know that Parker was aware of the relationship between DSO agent and BSAA captain.

"We aren't actually hiding it. Though I doubt if we were subtle in the office," the captain admitted.

"For the most part, you both seem to keep the professional lines drawn. And I honestly can't say I _wouldn't_ have reacted the same way if I'd been in your shoes. Still, you know him better than most, so you gotta know what he's capable of, skill set and all."

Chris could hear the unspoken rebuke. Yes, he _did_ know what Leon's capable of. He also knew there had to have been a good reason Leon wasn't firing on that monster. But Chris threw himself into the situation with a lack of foresight, and worse, once more underestimating the blond.

"Captain!" Both Parker and Chris turned to the soldier manning comms. "Message from the FOS! They have agents en route and will transport Shadow back state-side."

" _What!_ " The captain took two long steps and grabbed the comm unit from the soldier. "This is Chris Redfield with the BSAA. Agent Kennedy has—"

"Agent Kennedy was able to send info on the poison and antidote earlier," and Chris identified the voice as Ingrid Hunnigan, Leon's handler. "We already had the antidote in production as a result and can administer it as soon as they touch down."

"With all due respect, ma'am—"

"There is also a matter of security," Hunnigan spoke over him. "Legally, Agent Kennedy should not be there, regardless of BSAA's request. Plus there's the addition of Agent Kennedy's medical history. It's in his best interest that he return so he can be attended to by his own doctor."

His medical history... dammit. Chris had forgotten about the Plagas antibodies Leon had. That was strictly classified info and could not get out for fear of some devious mind wanting to get their hands on his blood. So even if it would take longer to get the antidote to Leon, he couldn't be treated beyond basics here.

"Understood." And he did, even while the captain hated it at the same time. Because a short-term fix would create a long-term problem that absolutely nobody wanted.

"Captain Redfield, given the request made by the BSAA, I feel it appropriate that one of your members escort Agent Kennedy back to the U.S. Preferably one who has information on the nature of his injuries."

Chris now knew why Leon admired and trusted Hunnigan so much; she was incredibly perceptive. "I'll escort him myself. I can provide full details of the incident."

"Thank you, captain. DSO agents will arrive within two hours."

That couldn't be right. Even with the fastest jets... "Two hours?"

"Agent Kennedy had a few _misgivings_ about the facility and the lack of information. He received additional intel from... an outside source... regarding the possibility of the use of poison, as well as an antidote. Agent Kennedy requested the antidote be made in advance and delivered to your units, but there was some delay. Our agents were already en route with the antidote prior to Agent Kennedy's injuries." A wry tone coloured Hunnigan's voice. "I've found when it comes to his hunches, it's better to listen to him than not."

The captain really wanted to yell at someone, _anyone_ about this new piece of critical information that he honestly should have been privy to. Then Hunnigan's words replayed in his mind, and he realised why it hadn't been included.

An outside source.

Ada Wong.

Sometimes he wanted to throttle that woman even if she proved helpful to Leon, on occasion.

Best to push everything aside and focus on the more important issues at hand. "We'll rendezvous with your agents in two hours, then."

"Understood, captain. FOS out."

The device was handed back to the communication's officer as Chris turned back to Parker. "I'm escorting Kennedy back to the states."

"I heard. Go be with your boy. I'll handle clean-up."

Chris nodded his thanks as he walked away, looking for the nearest transport out. Now only one thought floated through his mind.

_'Don't let him pay for my mistake. Please, not him.'_

────────

Chris stared down at the hand still held within his own. He felt exhausted re-telling everything to Leon, but slightly less burdened as well. He wondered if this is what Claire meant when she said he'd feel better if he talked things out more.

"Lucky for all of us, the agents had enough of the antidote for you and the squad members who were poisoned as well. Though you lost a fair amount of blood. That wasn't a problem once we got here. Oh yeah, storing up your own blood is pretty smart and I think I want to suggest it to HQ. But you always had better foresight than me.

Chris sighed. He might feel slightly better, but a weight still pressed against his heart.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm so fucking sorry. It was the same as back in China. Or worse. Back then I was too focused on the target that I couldn't hear anyone else. This time, I... I was too jaded. You kill so many of those things that you get used to doing it a certain way. I forget that insane scientists can mix things up and splice as many monsters together as they want. But worse than that... worse was how I ignored you. _Forgot_ you. Forgot about your skill set. Forgot about your experience. Hell, I forgot the very reason you were sent in first. I saw you there and just... forgot everything and took the shot."

A shuddering breath left Chris as he continued. "Reckless, right? Hot-headed. Stubborn. I finally see what everyone means. I used to think that of you, but you work solo. You have a reason to be, at least. And I know you can work with others when you have to. So, there's that.

"Fuck, Leon. I... I'm sorry for everything." The brunet gripped the pale hand a little tighter. "I'm so sorry. Underestimating you, being reckless, not letting you do your job... all of it," the words came out in a gust. "But I can learn. Claire reminded me, and I can learn, and I can work on not letting this happen again. But... but... not if you don't wake up. I don't know how to fix any of this if you won't wake up." It was true; Chris had no idea what he would do without Leon as a compass to guide him. How could he be sure if he were heading in the right direction without the blond to let him know?

"Claire keeps saying it's a normal sleep, but seeing you like this makes it hard to believe. I... I need you to wake up, Leon," Chris begged, holding that pale hand in both of his now. "It would... there's no point in trying to fix anything if you're not there."

No response. Not that he expected any. Claire told him Leon would wake up when he was good and ready. It was just so damn _hard_ to look at Leon this still and lifeless and believe he would ever wake up. Chris took in the drawn, tired features. Eyes that normally burned with emotions now closed with circles so dark they appeared bruised. Had Leon always been that gaunt? When had his hair lost its sheen? The blond would have something to say if he learned his hair had been anything less than perfect.

Chris would listen to every little complaint right now if it meant Leon was awake to make them.

Speaking of listening, Chris wondered if anything he said had made it through to Leon. He couldn't deny some small and naively stupid part of himself had hoped Leon would have woken up to the sound of the brunet talking. Logically he knew better, but there went hope flying in the face of all reason just to get disappointed time and again. Yet, it wouldn't hurt anything to keep trying. He could drown out the sound of the machine and keep the silence at bay, if nothing else. There was just one problem.

Chris didn't know what else he could talk about.

A memory, older than Chris would like to admit, emerged from the shadows of his mind. A song his mother used to sing as a lullaby. He found out later it had been a Beatles song but that didn't surprise him; Chris remembered her being a huge fan. Of course she'd sing one of their songs to send her kids to sleep.

The older Redfield would be the first to tell anyone he was no singer. Maybe he could carry a tune, but best to keep him away from the karaoke machine. Still, he'd run out of words to say; maybe some words to sing would work instead.

Once there was a way to get back homeward. Once there was a way to get back home.  
Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby.

Golden slumbers fill your eyes. Smiles await you when you rise.  
Sleep pretty darling do not cry, and I will sing a lullaby.

Though sleep was the opposite of what Chris wanted Leon to do. So many emotions tied him to those words, and now Chris had twice as many than before, having sung it to his lover. The brunet sighed and let his head fall forward to rest on the back of Leon's hand.

"You're no Paul, but you'll do, I guess."

The groggy voice jerked Chris up with such speed and force the chair he'd been sitting in clattered loudly behind him.

"Leon!"

He was still too wan to be considered healthy. His hair lay flat and limp. Those blue eyes were dulled with exhaustion.

With a faint, tired smile and being so wonderfully _awake_ , at that moment Leon was the most beautiful thing Chris had ever seen.

A second didn't pass before Chris blindly grabbed the chair and sat back down, taking the _'awake he's awake_ ' same hand back into his own. "You're awake! Oh thank god, you... you're awake, and Claire told me your doctor said you'd be okay but you were so damn still but you're awake now shit... sorry, I..." Chris didn't bother hiding why he suddenly scrubbed at his eyes. "Sorry... sorry, you... you just woke up. Are... are you okay? Need anything? I should—"

"I think the fact that I'm waking up in a hospital kind of points to me being not okay," Leon snarked, sounding more coherent by the second.

"Well yeah, but... _'he's awake he's awake'_ I think waking up at all is a pretty good starting point to _being_ alright." Both retort and grin were weak, but the brunet didn't think anyone would hold it against him.

_'he's awake he's awake he's awake'_

"Okay, you got me there," Leon agreed. It took a little effort for Leon to squint and focus on Chris. "Hey, are _you_ okay?"

_'awake awake awake what no no no it's not about me why ask about me you're awake that's all that matters you're awake you're alive... you almost **died**_

_'...you almost died, and it was my fault.'_

A tidal wave crashed over him. Relief, fear, sadness, hope, guilt, worry, elation... too many emotions slammed into Chris all at once. The captain brought to his knees as he fell from the small chair. 

"Why? Why would you... you almost _died_! You almost died, and it's _my fault_! It's my fault you're lying here now, and you almost... oh god, I'm sorry, I'm so damn sorry, Leon. I... I..." Chris made a whimpering noise, the sound muffled when his head rested against the blond's hand.

An unreadable expression slid across Leon's face. He watched Chris for several moments, noting the tremor running over the older man's shoulders. Another moment brought a soft sigh with it.

"Chris." Leon freed his hand and let it drop to Chris's hair. "Help me sit up, would you?"

"Whu—oh, sure, of course!" He scrambled to do just that, pressing the adjust button on the bed while rearranging the pillows to cushion Leon's back. "You need anything else? You're throat's probably dry. There's some water here—"

Leon waved that away. "Not yet. Just come closer, would you?" Seeing the brunet move only an inch or two, Leon arched a brow. "Closer." Soon as Chris was within Leon's personal space, the blond showed his speed was still intact as he delivered an open hand swat to the back of Chris's head.

"What the hell!" Chris jerked back with a grunt, placing a hand to the pained area. "That's twice now, jeeze! What's with you two and my head?"

The suspect list on who the other person could be was very short. "If Claire hit you, I'm guessing you deserved it." He ignored the brunet pouting at him. "You reacted to what you saw in a way you're used to being effective. This time it wasn't, and that was just shit luck." Leon took a slow breath. "It all happened so fast. There wasn't enough time, I get it. I'm just glad I'd read the specs on the thing and got you out of the way."

If the agent had been a second slower, Chris knew Leon and the others would likely be planning the captain's funeral right now. He was grateful for the save, but still... "If I had waited—"

"I can't and won't lie to you, Chris. You did jump the gun on that. I can guess why, but I know I'm not the only one who's tried to tell you to stop rushing headfirst into every fight like it's your last. One day it _will_ be, and it could have been avoided. Fuck's sake, Redfield." The blond threw both hands in the air. "Just five seconds. Not even that much. Long enough for me to get the 'don't shoot' from my mouth to your ears. You know good and well if it had been one of your men, you'd still be tearings strips off them."

And how humiliating was it going to be when Chris had to admit to doing just that only minutes before he was guilty of the same crime? He planned to put that conversation off for as long as possible.

"I get it. I do," Leon continued. "Sometimes a second is all that's between life and lunchmeat. You especially, since you're more frontline." He made an expansive gesture towards himself. "But it's my job to make sure that second counts. I get the intel. I assess the threats. I _tell you_ what you need to kill and what you need to avoid. I know you have people in the BSAA who do the same thing, even if they're not as good as me," the agent quipped.

"A lot of them would likely punch you in the face if they were here right now, injured or no," Chris pointed out.

"One, they're not here. Two, I'd have to question our relationship if you let your people hit me for the truth."

He really couldn't argue either reason and chose not to. "Okay, I get it. I wasn't letting you do your job. Not that I had all the intel."

"Did you check with HQ once you got to the lab?"

Chris winced. It wasn't _strictly_ protocol, but many squad leaders had gotten into the habit of contacting HQ before entering the final zone just in case any new intel had come in. Normally Chris would have done that as well but he'd been too focused on meeting up with Leon and subsequently forgot.

"Don't even need to answer; your face says enough." Leon rubbed his temples a few times. "Let me guess, you were too gung ho about rendezvousing with me, right?"

"Is there a reason to bother when you already know the answer?" Chris asked instead.

"Besides making you own up to it? Not really." The blond rested his hands on his lap, eyes locking with Chris's. "But just so you know, you scare me when you're like that."

And that... wasn't what Chris expected to hear. "Excuse me?"

"When you let your emotions blind you to everything but your target. Especially when that emotion is anger."

"Wait a minute, I wasn't—" The blond aimed a sharp look at him, making Chris snap his mouth shut so hard his teeth clacked together.

"Do not stand there and lie to me. I was the one who gave you the letter from HQ regarding my assignment, remember?"

And yes, he was a little miffed about that, but really—

"Chris, whatever way you think you're going to rationalise that? I'm here to tell you it won't work. Plus there was a witness."

—he had been livid, and Parker would tell anyone who asked.

"Dammit." He clenched his fists so tight they shook; when he felt Leon cover one of them with his own hand, Chris instinctively relaxed them.

"You have the right to feel angry if something upsets you," Leon explained. "But you scare me when you can't see what's around you. It scares me, because one day you might go in and not have anyone who can cover your blind spots, and you'll miss something vital. And I might not be there to pull your ass out the fire of your own making."

Didn't Chris have similar feelings about some of the missions Leon took? But his fears usually stemmed from constantly underestimating the agent. He was going to have to work on that, along with his anger issues. Issues which time and again were getting him into entirely too much trouble. But this was the first time it got someone he cared about injured. And it could have been so much, too.

"What do I do?" he asked, more to himself. "I don't want... I can't do this again. What do I do?"

"First, take a seat. You're hurting my neck." The unrepentant grin returned when Chris huffed at him but did as Leon ordered. "Great. Now second, I'm assuming from what you said earlier that Claire is around?" He spoke again when the brunet nodded. "Good. When she gets back from wherever, we'll have a meeting of the minds on where to sign you up for some anger management." Blue eyes rolled hard to the right at Chris's pinched look. "Yes, I am aware of your thoughts to any form of therapy whatsoever, but even you have to admit it's done wonders for Claire. Hell, even Jake's taken a class or two." The blond opted not to saw how hard Jake had fought going to even that much, or how begrudging he was to admit they helped.

It was news to Chris that both Claire and Jake _'Jake?! The hell...?'_ had gone to anger management classes. "Why would Claire have needed to go to that if I'm the one always accused of having a temper?"

"Because, brother mine, nobody's temper can compare to yours, so you never noticed I had one as well." Claire ignored the scowl she received from the older Redfield and walked over to kiss Leon on the forehead. "Glad to have you back. You don't want to know what a sorry schmuck he was turning into while you were enjoying a nap."

Leon smiled, tapping Claire's hand with his own in greeting. "Is that why you smacked him?"

"Something like that." The two shared a grin that Chris absolutely hated (and loved, in equal measure).

"HelLO. I'm right here," he began, but a soft voice spoke up from near the door.

"I'd think that'd be a hard thing to overlook, if only because of how much space you take up, young man."

One blink, then another. A tiny woman in a slightly over-sized lab coat stood at the door, clipboard in hand. Her curly, brown hair was tied back into a puffed ponytail. Her eyes peered over the rim of her glasses to give Chris an appraising look, and that's when the captain realised just who he was gazing at. "Ah... AH!" He jerked himself to his feet for the second time that day. "D-doctor. Doctor... Lambèrt? Doctor, I'm sorry, I first thought... um" Chris's stumbling, awkward apology got cut when Leon turned and beamed at the tiny woman.

"Joy! Please please _please_ tell me I can go home soon." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Chris. "This idiot can't kick his own ass, so Claire and I have to do it for him."

"Hmm." Doctor Lambèrt walked into the room and took a slow circle around Chris, who could not for the life of him will the sudden flush away from his cheeks. "I dunno. That's a lot of ass to kick, and I don't want you tiring yourself out."

Claire cackled against Leon's shoulder. Leon grinned that cheeky smile as usual, and Chris wondered if this was how he'd die; sheer and acute embarrassment from the people he supposedly (absolutely) cared about.

"Oh, I know better than to try all at once. Gotta do it in stages, y'know?"

"Good. I don't want you coming back in for exhaustion." The doctor smiled up at the captain and patted him on the back. "Your sister explained things and given the circumstances, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Apology accepted."

A breath was exhaled that Chris hadn't realised he'd been holding. "Thank you, doctor."

Leon glanced between both of them. "Something the rest of us should know?"

"Just the usual; nothing to worry your pretty noggin over," Joy told him. She had his chart in hand and checked a couple of things off. "And to answer your other request, all poison is cleared from your system. The injury will heal up fine in a couple more days. So if you promise to take it easy, you can go home as soon as tomorrow." The doctor shook her head at Leon's soft whine. "I'm sorry, but I know you live alone and I wouldn't feel right letting you go before then without someone looking after you." She paused and turned after hearing Chris clear his throat, seeing the brunet with his hand raised. "Yes? Mister Redfield, isn't it?"

"Just Chris, ma'am. And I could help Leon if he wants to leave sooner," the frantic nodding from the bed went ignored by both of them, "but are you sure he's well enough to go home today, even with my help?"

The petite doctor glanced over at Leon first. "He doesn't know?" She watched Leon shake his head and shrugged. "Do you want to explain? He should know just in case."

"A lot of times I forget it's even a thing." The agent waved a hand towards Joy. "You can explain it better than I can, even if it is my body."

"Nobody knows your body better than I do." The doctor turned back to Chris. "It's pretty simple. You're aware Leon was infected for a time with Las Plagas?" At his noise of agreement, she continued. "Once it was removed it left behind antibodies that prevent re-infection, but that's only part of it. The antibodies have boosted Leon's immune system, just to start. He's also a bit more durable than the average human male of his build."

Chris thought that helped to explain China a little more with how Leon recovered from the body blows he given the agent, though he hated realising that wasn't the last time he'd get Leon hurt. "What else?"

"The antibodies help with fighting off most infections and viruses, hence why Leon was nearly immune to the air-borne C virus. He would need to be locked in a room filled with the stuff to get a full infection."

Though surprising as well, it helped a lot of other puzzle pieces slot into place for Chris. There had been many things he wanted to ask Leon about Tatchi, but didn't think it right to force Leon to slog through those memories just to satisfy the brunet's curiosity.

"Sounds useful, though I imagine getting those were a pain in the ass," he muttered, glancing over at Leon who shrugged in reply.

"Shit happens. And I'm a little harder to kill, so a plus in my book."

"It'd be nice if the DSO would try and not push the 'hard to kill' limits," muttered Joy. "Anyway, the downside is when his system is taxed, he needs to recuperate even if his body is healed. And his calories need to be increased until he's back to baseline."

Claire cheekily added, "You better tell him not to listen when Leon tries to convince Chris that double stacks of pancakes are a prescription." She poked Leon in the forehead. "Go to ihop like a normal person, you breakfast freak."

Leon placed a hand over his heart and put as much over the top pain into his expression as he could. "Right here, Claire. You just bruise me all up and shatter my feels here. You got me right in yon kokoro." He laughed when Joy let her clipboard tap him on the head.

"I'm suddenly grateful to Chris here for getting your corny ass out of my hospital. Unfortunately, as you are not my only patient, it's going to take a few hours to sign off on everything. I'll try to push it through, but you know the paper train."

"Trust me, I know." A small, happy smile tugged Leon's lips when the doctor ruffled his hair.

"Get some more rest. I'll be back asap." Joy turned towards the door, stopping only when Claire spoke up.

"I'll walk with you. Might as well get something to eat, and I can bring something back for them."

The two women chatted as they left. Exhaustion began a slow crawl over Chris with all the peaks and crashes of his emotions. A faint tremor further indicated how tired he was as the brunet pulled the chair back to the side of Leon's bed. The stupidly small, plastic piece of furniture felt pretty good in the wake of his fatigue.

"Long day?" Leon joked, making Chris snort.

"Something like that." He reached over without a second thought and rested his hand over Leon's. It amazed Chris a little at how delicate Leon's hands would look against his own, despite knowing Leon worked them every bit as much as the captain worked his. It was just one of many reasons that Chris tended to forget Leon was just as—and in some cases a hell of a lot more—capable as any BSAA soldier. He would have to stop that, though holding onto those finely shaped hands would always send a thrill racing through his veins.

"So have you thought about it? Going to an anger management course?"

No point in hemming and hawing over the issue. He needed help to make sure this never happened again. If it took going through some sort of class to help control in his temper, then that's what Chris would do.

"Soon as we get out of here and get you settled, I'll talk to Claire about signing up for one." The bright smile given to him untwisted something in Chris's heart. Such a soft, happy thing; how could he not do everything in his power to see Leon smile like that more often?

"I think it will help a lot. And knowing you won't always go charging in, well it makes me feel better when you have to go out."

"Yeah, you're right." Neither said anything for several minutes. Leon tugged the brunet's hand when Chris jerked his head up from where it drifted down for a third time.

"Get up here, you. We can fit." He wasn't surprised when Chris shook his head. "Seriously, Redfield. I can see the luggage under your eyes. Get up here and keep me company until I have my 'get out of jail free' pass."

"Wow, rude." Chris gave in—he couldn't deny feeling tired—and crawled into the bed soon as Leon shifted to give him enough room. A slightly tight fit, but neither seemed to mind; they both took comfort in feeling the other being close and safe. Leon wasn't as sleepy and simply enjoyed the extra warmth for some moments.

"So I think I could ask Hunnigan about some anger classes, if Claire's suggestion might not work for you. Don't know if you're into the meditation thing or not, though it's not so bad. Works for more than just anger; helps slow down the mind when I can't sleep. Do you mind if I ask? I can keep your name out of it if you want." Leon waited for a response and got one, just not the kind he expected. The gentle rumble didn't sound like any noise he was accustomed to and shifted enough to see Chris had fallen asleep in that short time. The blond chuckled and settled back to take Joy's advice on catching a few more Z's.

~~~

Less than six hours later saw Leon propped up on his pull-out couch. He rolled his eyes at his utterly ridiculous (and maybe a smidge adorable) boyfriend's antics. Chris scrambled around the blond's condo, making sure there's enough food, checking what they can have now and later, and always dashing back every five minutes or so to see if Leon needed anything. Were it anyone else, the blond would be frustrated by now. But he knew Chris's frenetic energy came from a place of fear. If letting the older man rush all over the place while constantly reassuring himself that Leon was fine helped to settle Chris's nerves, then the blond would let him have it, for the time being. But he had to draw the line when Chris started suggesting healthy foods and smoothies to encourage his recovery.

Leon had no desire whatsoever to know what a kale smoothie tasted like.

No.

"Chris, for fuck's sake, just sit with me if you're that worried about me. I can always use the company." He patted the empty left side of the pull-out to emphasize the point.

"But..." He trailed off at the arched brow he'd been on the receiving end of too many times to count. "Fine," Chris huffed and flopped to the empty side. The brow shifted from 'this' to 'that' and the brunet huffed again. "No, I'm not pouting, so shut up."

Another shift, and Chris wondered where the hell someone learned how to communicate with just an eyebrow.

Leon decided to let the matter of a pouting Redfield go for now. "So tell me the abridged version of what happened after I was carted off? Don't need specs unless you're trying to put me to sleep, and I will fight you tooth and nail if you are."

He knew Leon would, so Chris didn't bother. He picked at the cover of the pull-out for a little, still upset at how the mission played out.

"We eradicated the plant G's," he began. "Fire came in very handy for that. Remind me to show you the flamethrowers Parker kludged together just for them."

"He seems like the type who could do something like that." The agent hummed softly. "What else?"

So much of what happened after Leon was taken for medical treatment felt hazy at best as Chris tried to recall it. "I don't think we'll have to worry about those particular types being recreated. You destroyed all the data on making them and noted in the intel that they were deemed too difficult and unstable. So yeah, no new lettuce G's to have worry about."

"That's going to put me off my salad," the blond half-joked. "Anything else?"

Chris shrugged, fingers tracing the patterns on the blanket. "Nothing important, really," he said after a thought. "Thanks for leaving the self-destruct intact, though. The squad enjoyed it."

"Always happy to help blow someone's shit up." Leon noticed his boyfriend still looked tense and reached over to lay a hand on Chris's. "You want to start looking for those anger management courses? We have time."

"Claire found one already. We talked about it while Dr. Lambèrt was giving you a final checkup and made us wait outside," he explained at Leon's questioning expression. "It's not heavy into meditation, though there's a little bit. But she said it would probably be the best fit for me. I'll give it a try next week."

"Good. I think it will help and," he squeezed Chris's hand to get the brunet to look up at him, "I'm proud of you. I know this isn't your usual thing, so thanks for giving it a shot."

Chris would do a lot more if it meant never having to go through seeing Leon hurt because of his reckless actions. Before he could say as much, he noticed the blond sighed and burrowed deeper into the sofa bed. "Hey, you alright? Need me to get you anything?"

"No... no! I mean it, do _not_ get off this bed, Redfield, I'm fine!" Leon went so far as to grab the hem of Chris's shirt in case the brunet decided not to listen to him. "I'm fine, jeeze. Joy told you already I just need to rest. So I'm resting. Otherwise, hot makeouts would be a thing right now. But I know my limits, so you'll have to take a raincheck." All of that was true, but what Leon really wanted—ah, _there_ it goes. That exploding blush staining Chris's cheeks and turning his ears pink always delighted the blond, so any opportunity he had to make it appear Leon took with gusto.

"Sh-shut up! No way in hell you're up to anything like that!" Chris scowled as the blond menace chuckled at his embarrassment.

"Fine, fine. Doesn't make it any less true." Fun over, Leon adjusted the his covers. "This does suck, though. Every time these assholes inside me get overworked, I'm left tired and cold. Annoying."

Chris found inspiration watching his lover try to get comfortable. Here was something he could do, wouldn't require him to move from the sofa bed, and would keep him close enough to know if Leon might need anything more.

"Here, just lay on me. I've been told I'm extra warm, anyway."

"Hmm." Leon couldn't deny that. Winter made Chris a godsend. (Summer turned him into a demon straight from hell trying to set the blond on fire just by close proximity, but he kept that to himself.) "Fine. Lay flat then."

"Yes, sir." Both men snorted as the brunet obeyed the order. Once he was comfortable, Leon shifted until he was lying atop Chris's chest, the steady heartbeat pulsing in the younger man's ear. It's that rhythmic beat that soon had Leon drifting off, while the lack of movement and the gentle weight over him had Chris doing the same.

A gossamer peace fell over the condo. Everything blanketed in a hush, fragile yet ambient. It was good, until it wasn't.

The commotion at the door stirred Chris awake first. A quick glance to the wall clock told him he and Leon had managed two hours uninterrupted. He bit down a groan, not wanting to wake the younger man up. This meant he'd have to see what the ruckus at the door was all about before _that_ disturbed Leon more so.

Whoever it was didn't wait for Chris to pull himself away and barged in with hell licking at their feet. Just as he identified the _very scary_ blonde looming over them, Sherry in turn noted Leon's relaxed state and immediately silenced her motions. Chris gestured for her to go into the kitchen for now as he began untangling himself from his boyfriend's grip. He got a nod of agreement before the petite agent headed that way. Mentally she wished Chris good luck; Leon could turn into an octopus when it came to hugging someone in his sleep.

It took far longer than Chris imagined it would to free himself. _'Does he have arms or tentacles?!'_ He soothed his ego by reminding himself he had been trying not to wake Leon up. A task the blond made extremely difficult with his grabby hands.

Chris entered the kitchen to see Sherry had been joined by Claire and Piers. He shrugged it off and went to get everyone something to drink.

"Do I want to know why it sounded like a small stampede right outside Leon's front door?"

Sherry huffed and crossed her arms. Piers knew when she was in a mood and took the job of explaining.

"We went to visit Leon and were told he'd already checked out. Sherry was... concerned... Leon might have checked out AMA and rushed over... very fast."

The pauses in Piers's reply were more telling than his words. "In other words," he translated, not looking directly at Sherry, "you thought he was ducking out early and stormed right over to drag him back yourself, right?"

"It's too soon," she answered instead. "I know he's kind of like me to a lesser extent, but it's too soon for him to be on his own. Maybe in a couple of days, sure, but—"

"It's okay, I'm staying with him until he's recovered. It's why Doctor Lambèrt allowed him to go home early," he told Sherry. At the same time, he wondered just how much Sherry knew about Leon because she seemed to be aware of all his secrets.

Chris decided to ask Piers how he could get on her good side to have an inside track to that info.

"...fine." The answer mollified her for the moment. "We have groceries and take-out in the car. We'll go get it."

Chris, Claire and Piers all breathed a sigh of relief. World War Sherry avoided for now.

"Yeah, let's go! The take-out will get cold if we don't get a move on." Piers led the obviously-not-but-totally-was retreat back to the car, with Claire right behind him. Chris followed behind Sherry and into the living room, where he split off to lay back down with Leon. The other two were already outside when Sherry paused to turn and face Chris. She did the two-finger point to her eyes, then jerked those fingers to Chris. He swallowed down a faint knot of terror; message received loud and clear. Sherry nodded sharply and went to join the others.

The BSAA captain stared at the empty place she left. He eventually shook his head and settled back into the bed with Leon. Chris took the chance to mutter into Leon's hair, "You've made her absolutely terrifying, I hope you know." He wasn't expecting the soft "that's m'girl" Leon whispered in his sleep.

Chris chuckled at his personal blond menace. He kissed Leon's hair before relaxing to enjoy the peace a little while longer.

♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the numerous references to Leon as Shadow were a bit confusing: Chris was trying to keep the professional lines locked in his head. But when his feelings get the best of him, he drops the Shadow moniker pretty fast. Hope that clears it up a little. Again I might be forgetting something, so I'll add it later if I remember.
> 
> Many thanks for reading!


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